Hold on
by wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Peter had just wanted some snacks. Just a trip to the store to get some food for a hungry teenager. But when someone needs help, Spider-Man can't walk away, even if it means putting himself in danger.


"You want anything else?" The checkout girl looked supremely bored as she handed Peter his bag of snacks, but he smiled all the same as he took them.

"No, thanks. I'm all good!"

He may have been Spiderman but he still got hungry.

His senses were usually pretty good, but he'd been distracted all day, and he didn't notice the other man come in. He also didn't notice the gun he had in his waistband.

He was about to leave the store when his phone rang, and he quickly balanced his snacks in one hand to answer it.

"Hey Mr Stark! I just finished school and I aced that science test I was telling you about!"

The older man's voice was slightly amused, and a little proud. "That's great Pete, I told you it would be fine. You know, Cap and I were talking and I think it's time you came on a mission with us."

Peter attempted to calm his racing heart as soon as those words were spoken. A mission? With Iron Man and Captain freaking America?

His voice was embarrassingly high as he replied. "Um, yeah that sounds cool! You want me to meet you now?"

A crash and a scream drowned out Tony's reply, and Peter turned in time to see the cashier stuff handfuls of money into a bag, for the man holding a gun to her head. Peter let out a curse, as he ducked behind a shelf of food.

"Shit."

"Peter, you know your Aunt hates it when you-"

The kid quickly cut him off, crouching down behind the shelf and trying to get a peek at the man with the gun. The check-out girl was crying.

"Tony this store is being robbed."

There was a pause. "The one you're standing in?"

"Yeah, but I have my suit in my bag. If I can just get somewhere to change, I can handle it."

Tony paused again, and Peter was worried he'd tell him to stay out of it, and make a speech about how he wasn't bullet proof and he should just wait for the police to get there. But instead he agreed.

"Okay, you got this. But BE CAREFUL, all right?"

Peter could almost jump up and down with excitement, except that would most definitely get him shot. He was about to hang up the phone when-

"What are you doing?"

Shit. The man with the gun was now pointing it at Peter, and he didn't know what to say.

"Nothing."

The robber looked panicked, hand shaking as he aimed the gun at Peter's chest, bag of cash hanging by his side. Peter put his hands up.

"Who are you talking to! Did you call the cops? I can't have any cops coming in here!"

Peter flinched back as the man got closer. He smelt awful, and his teeth were rotted and broken. His pupils were blown wide too, which made it obvious he was on something. That only made him more dangerous.

"It's not the cops, it's…my dad. You don't have to hurt anyone, why don't you just put the gun down and we can talk about this?"

Tony's voice was still coming from the phone, and he sounded worried. Peter kept his eyes on the gunman as he took the phone from his hand.

"Who is this?"

Peter could hear Tony's furious reply from where he stood, and tried to come up with a plan to get the gun away from the robber.

"If you touch my kid, I swear to god, I will hunt you down and make you pay."

The robber's hand dipped just a little as his attention was diverted, and Peter saw his opening. He lunged for the gun, getting his fingers around it before the man had even turned around, and within a second, he was disarmed.

Peter aimed the gun at the man, but kept his finger far away from the trigger, as he took his phone back from the surprised junkie.

Tony was still screaming profanities as Peter pressed the phone back to his ear, and the teenager smiled as he cut him off.

"-YOU PIECE OF SHIT, I'LL HAVE THE WHOLE-"

"Tony, it's fine, I got the gun. And I didn't even need to use my-"

Peter didn't really register what the sound was at first. It echoed through the small store, and left his ears ringing. The cashier screamed, and the junkie looked like he was about to throw up.

The gun dropped from Peter's hand as he looked down at his stomach. There was red seeping outwards, and it burned like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Another voice came from the front of the store, gruff and annoyed.

"I told you to grab the shit and go, why do I have to do everything myself? Hurry up, leave him."

The junkie left with the other guy, and the cashier continued to scream as Tony started yelling once more, but Peter was frozen.

"Peter? Are you okay? Peter answer me!"

It took a few moments for him to find his voice, long enough for both robbers to leave, and when he finally did speak, it came out small and scared.

"T…Tony. I think I've been shot."

His knees hit the floor, and he let out a cry of pain as he curled on his side on the disgusting tile. It hurt so badly, it was like a hot knife was being pushed into his stomach, and he couldn't breathe without more pain carving through him.

There was a lot of noise coming through the phone, like engines and panicked voices but Peter couldn't concentrate on anything but the pain. He could feel his own blood dripping down his side, and the way his shirt stuck to the wound. He sucked in a ragged breath, closing his eyes against the way it hurt his chest, and tried not to gag on the smell of copper tinging the air.

A sniffle caught his attention, and he opened his eyes to see the cashier standing above him, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her hands to her mouth. Peter reached towards her, words shaking.

"Are…you o-okay? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to the hole in his stomach before they found the phone still clutched in his hand. Tony was still yelling, begging for Peter to answer him, and the cashier carefully knelt and took the phone from Peters shaking hand.

"Hello?"

"Who is this? Where's Peter, is he okay?"

The girl's face crumpled as she began to sob, and Peter just tried to concentrate on breathing.

"They shot him."

Tony's voice was strained. "Is he alive?"

The girl nodded before answering verbally. Tony sounded a little more focused now, and his words came as a command.

"Put me on speaker and let me talk to him, while you find something to stop the bleeding."

She nodded again and did as she was told, putting the phone down next to Peter's head as he twitched on the ground. It hurt to move but every part of him shook from the pain and shock.

"Peter, talk to me kid."

He forced his words out, hands hovering over his stomach as they trembled. He knew he had to put pressure on it, but he couldn't make himself move.

"H-hey."

Tony let out a breathy laugh, relieved to hear his voice as tires squealed in the background. "Hey. Everything's going to be okay, I'm on my way and the police are coming. I've already gotten F.R.I.D.A.Y to notify my med team and they'll come soon. You just have to stay awake, all right?"

Peter nodded as the cashier came back, holding a bunch of towels. She knelt beside him and balled them up, pressing them to the bullet wound and making Peter cry out in agony as she profusely apologized.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, but your dad said I had to stop the bleeding!"

Peter couldn't hear anything else, as she pressed harder and pain filled his mind. His senses were more intense than other peoples, and he couldn't block anything out when distracted as he was. The lights were too bright, and there was too much noise from the phone and the cars outside, and he could feel every millimetre that the bullet moved inside him.

He couldn't shut any of it out, and the pain was so intense he could do nothing but scream.

They were lucky that no one from the street came to see what was happening, because they couldn't deal with any normal paramedics and Peter didn't need any more sensory input right now.

Tony's voice came through the phone again, trying to sound soothing despite how it shook.

"It's okay, Peter! You'll be okay, I'm coming. I'm on my way, just hold on for me, buddy."

The cashier started crying again, pushing down on the towels as they grew wet. Peter's head began to swirl, and he noticed her name tag for the first time. It was hard to read when your eyes don't want to stay open, but he was pretty sure it said Anne.

Tears fell down her cheeks as she watched Peter, and she called to the phone on the ground as his eyes got heavier.

"He's falling asleep! And I can't stop the bleeding, it just keeps coming! I don't know what to do!"

The engine on the other end of the phone revved harder and Peter blinked up at the face above him. Tony sounded angry.

"Stay awake, Peter! Just keep pressure on it, I'm almost there! Peter! Answer me!"

Lights turned into glowing embers, and the face above him began to blur as the teenager started to shiver. Why was it so cold?

"No, Peter come on. Stay with me, kid."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Peter's breaths began to slow, leaving his mouth in noisy pants, and it was getting harder to pull in any air at all. His mouth tasted like copper, and he could feel blood coat his lips as he coughed.

Tony was still waiting for him to say something, and his words sounded wet and weak.

"M…Mr Stark? I'm scared."

A noise like a sob came from the phone. Peter knew he was supposed to be a hero, and that Spider-Man was supposed to be brave. But he was in pain, and he knew that if he fell asleep, he might never wake up. All he wanted was Tony to be there; to make him feel safe, and to tell him everything would be okay. He felt so alone on that hard floor, with a stranger's hands coated in his blood, and his only comfort a voice on a phone.

Tony's voice was strangled, like something had a hand around his throat as he spoke.

"It'll be okay, Peter. I promise, I'm going to fix everything, just stay awake. Don't…don't give up, you can do this, I know you can. Keep talking to me. Tell me about that test you had today."

The world was moving so slowly, and Peter's eyes were closing of their own accord. He was so cold, and so tired. He couldn't hold on anymore.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes closed, as Tony called for him, and the cashier's sobbing grew louder.

Tony was driving as fast as he could, knuckles white on the steering wheel. He could barely see through the stupid tears in his eyes, but he continued, needing to get to his kid.

He could hear Peter's ragged breaths through the phone, and he could hear when they stopped. It was like his heart suddenly turned to stone, and became a weight in his chest that prevented him from breathing. Because as much as he hated hearing the wet, painful gasps being dragged through Peter's teeth, he hated the silence more. The girl was sobbing so loudly, that Tony could almost pretend it wasn't true. Of course, Peter was still breathing. He had to be.

But they weren't there, and when he finally pulled up to the tiny store and ran inside, he could ignore it no longer. Peter lay on the ground, arms laying at his sides as the crying cashier held bloody towels to his stomach. There was so much of it, stained all over the girl, and pooling from beneath the teenager.

Tony's hands started shaking as he looked at him. He was so pale, his eyes closed and his soft curls falling back from his forehead. There was blood dripping from his mouth and…he wasn't breathing.

Sirens rang outside as Tony fell to his knees beside the boy, picking up one of his limp hands and holding it in both of his. He was so, so young, he didn't deserve this.

Tony barely managed to push his words out before a sob took over him. "Peter? I'm here, I've got you now. You'll be okay. Wake up."

Those eyes didn't open, and that chest didn't rise and fall. He was cold. He was gone.

Help arrived a few seconds later, the med team he'd called stormed in, shouting things, and taking over, and Tony knew they were there to help but he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Peter.

Finally, someone pushed him away and he sat on the floor a few meters away, as they tore Peter's shirt open and attached pads to his chest. He tried to remember how to breathe as he watched Peter's body arch, seizing from the electricity passing through him, before he slumped back to the ground.

He watched them inject things and place wires, careful hands holding Peter's head still as they shoved a tube down his throat. He didn't move until they'd strapped Peter down onto a backboard, calling for Tony to come with them.

"You can follow in your car, Mr Stark. We'll take him straight to Avenger tower."

He watched them take his kid away, and got up to get in his car, but stopped as he caught sight of the blood and gauze all over the white tiles. God, Peter had died on that floor.

He couldn't look away, couldn't seem to tear his eyes from the horror in front of him. But Peter still needed him, so he made sure the cashier was taken care of before he went to his car, and drove.

…..

Peter woke to music. It was one of his favourites, and it filled his mind and helped him swim to the surface of whatever darkness he was lost in. The music lifted, and suddenly he couldn't just hear things, but feel them too. He was lying down, with his chest a little raised, and someone was holding his hand.

There were smells too, sharp, and antibacterial which Peter did not like, but at least he knew where he was now. He'd been in the medical wing of Avenger tower enough times to recognise it by the smells alone.

His eyes were heavy, and didn't want to open, but when they did they were met with a white ceiling and white walls, a soft blue blanket draped over him, and Tony Stark sitting by his bed.

Tony looked tired, like he hadn't slept in days, and he smiled when he saw Peter awake.

"Hey, kid. It's about time you woke up, I almost thought you'd sleep forever."

The teenager took a second to reply, finding his voice rough and his throat sore.

"You came."

Tony nodded, and stood to pull Peter's blankets higher up his chest, unable to help himself from fretting. It had been touch and go for so long, and he'd waited three days to see the boy's eyes open again.

"Of course, I did. I'll always be here when you need me, Peter."

The kids eyes drooped, and he frowned as if he were about to cry. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, I didn't want to give up but I was so scared and it hurt so bad."

Tony quickly sat on the edge of the bed, and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, eyebrows coming down over his worried gaze. "No, no, it's okay, I'm not mad Pete. You didn't do anything wrong. Everything's okay now, you just rest."

Peter heaved a shaky sigh as he blinked, a stray tear falling down his cheek.

"I didn't want to die alone, with a stranger. I didn't…I didn't want to be by myself."

Tony sighed and wiped the tear from that pale cheek, with a careful finger. "You're not alone, Peter. I won't leave. Just sleep, okay?"

Peter nodded, finally feeling safe, and let his eyes close once more, squeezing Tony's hand as he fell back into the warm dark.


End file.
